


Kiss Me

by piraninjedi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Cute, Fluffy, M/M, Pranks, Soulmates, Swearing, The Frog Prince, s03e05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piraninjedi/pseuds/piraninjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s having a bad day.  And having a bullfrog follow him everywhere isn’t helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me

He swore the damned thing was following him.  Ever since that case in New York, with the ghost obsessed with fairy tales, he’d seen the thing everywhere.  Hopping along the sidewalk near his motel, under a parking meter outside the diner where they ate lunch, in the hospital for crying out loud!  Everywhere he went, the bullfrog was there, making that god-awful noise.

He’d driven through the night, nearly hundreds of miles away from that town, and stopped in a small town off the interstate.  He thought they were somewhere in Michigan, but didn’t care.  Just needed to get out of the car, away from Sam.  Maybe find a bar, get a drink. 

Because Sam had gone after the crossroads demon, and even though it was dead, he still had the demon deal holding him down.  And his brother was so damn insistent on trying to save Dean, even though he knew that if they tried to get out of the deal, Sam would end up dead.  And they’d be back to square one.

It was giving him a headache.

He dropped Sam off at some broken down motel before finding a bar.  Two shots of whiskey in, he was feeling better.  Good enough to flirt with the cute girl at the other end of the bar.  He smiled at her when he caught her stare and she nodded.

It was going to be a good night.

Come morning, he drove back to the hotel after leaving the woman’s apartment with a grin on his face.  Sam was still in bed, asleep.  His laptop was plugged in and sitting on the table, screen on some news website.  He probably stayed up all night to find a new case.  That, or was looking for a way to break Dean’s deal.

He shrugged.  Today was going to be an awesome day.  He wasn’t letting anything get to him.  And he decided to kick off the day with a hot shower.  Then maybe a slice of pie for breakfast.  “Mmm, pie…” he hummed as he shucked off his clothes and stepped into the shower.  Five minutes later, a strange sound caught his ears.  It was oddly familiar, like a low-pitched horn.

Swinging back the curtain, he spotted the damned bullfrog on the bathroom floor.  Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he yelled, “Sam!”  He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and throwing it around his waist before leaving the bathroom.  The frog hopped after him. 

Sam jolted out of bed, looking around wildly.  “Wusgoinon?” he slurred, rubbing his eyes when there was no sign of immediate danger.

“You mind explaining that?” Dean demanded, pointing to the bullfrog that was getting dangerously close to his feet.  Sam glanced to where Dean was pointing and spotted the green creature.  He stared at it for a long moment before he toppled out of the bed, laughing.  “This isn’t funny!” Dean growled.

Sam tried to speak, “You, it, haha!”

“You’ve had your fun, now quit dicking around,” Dean mumbled as he picked up the frog.  It stared up at him, not blinking, as he moved to the door.  He stopped when he realized a problem.  He had the frog in one hand, and the other was holding up his towel.  He sent a glare to Sam, hoping to convey how pissed off he was and that he wanted to door open, like _yesterday_.

“What are you talking about, Dean?” Sam asked as he straightened, finally able to put whole sentences together.

“I mean, you keep putting this toad everywhere we go, making it look like it’s following me.  I told you, I ain’t kissing a damned frog!  Now open the door so I can get rid of it.”

Sam grinned, “I swear, I’m not doing anything,” he even held up his hands in surrender.

Dean didn’t believe him.

Especially when, after that stunt with Bela and the ghost ship, he found the toad in the trunk of the Impala.  There was no way that the thing could have hopped inside on its own.  Thing wasn’t smart enough. 

Right?

When he was back in the hotel room, he kicked off his boots and intended to catch a nap.  Or maybe watch Dr. Sexy.  Something.

Sam had the Impala, out at the library researching a possible vampire case in Detroit.  Since Dean decided to stay in for the night, the younger Winchester figured he would get more research done without Dean bothering him, so he took off.

Dean shrugged, not caring.  Gave him some alone time.  That way, he could watch his favorite show and not have Sam rib him about it.  He was all settled in, a coke in one hand, popcorn bowl in his lap, when he heard it.

He cursed, nearly throwing the popcorn against the wall in his frustration.  He found the bullfrog at his feet and picked it up, glaring at the damned thing.  “What the hell is going on?”

He didn’t expect it to do anything, just stare back at him with those weird, blue eyes.  Frogs weren’t supposed to have blue eyes, right?  But it sucked in a breath and made the low-pitched honking noise, startling Dean to the point he almost dropped it.

Eyes narrowed, he glanced around the room.  He felt dirty even thinking it, kissing a frog.  But the thing was stalking him!  And if he didn’t try this, he’d go crazy!  He figured now would be a good time, since Sam wasn’t around.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, he brought the bullfrog to his face and, sucking in a breath, he kissed it.

Nothing happened. 

Grumbling all the while, he set the frog back on the ground and decided to research bullfrog stalking cases.  Couldn’t hurt.  So he grabbed Sam’s laptop and booted it up.  His gaze slid to the bullfrog and his eyes bulged.

It was glowing.

The bullfrog was _glowing_.

So he did the first thing he could think of: he cursed and reached for his gun.

When he turned back to the creature, the light had brightened substantially, to the point it almost blinded him.  It faded and his eyes finally readjusted.  But the bullfrog was gone.

In its place was a man, wearing a blue suit and a rumpled trench coat.  He knew it was the frog, because the guy had those same, intense blue eyes.

This was officially the craziest thing Dean had ever seen.

Holding up the gun and aiming it at the man, he demanded, “The hell is goin’ on?”

The man tried to speak, but a coughing fit seized him.  Dean almost felt sorry for the guy.  How was he supposed to hold a gun to someone who was hacking up a lung?  He lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on as he did so.

It took a minute, but the man was able to regain his breath, rubbing at his chest in confusion.  “I apologize,” he said in a throaty voice that sent shivers down Dean’s spine.  It was a voice that immediately reminded him of sex.  He had to scold his downstairs brain, now was not the time for that.  And it was a guy for crying out loud!

Not that he’d never had stray thoughts, but those were very few and far in between, and had been for manlier men, not some scrawny tax accountant!  Not his type at all!

 …not that he was gay, he was just sayin’.  Purely hypothetical situation, that was _all_.

He forced the thoughts away and turned his gaze to the man, waiting for him to continue.  The guy looked uncertain as he continued hesitantly, “My brother thought it would be entertaining to play a prank on me.”

“So he turned you into a frog?” Dean summed and the guy nodded.  “The hell is he, a witch or some shit like that?”

A creased formed between the man’s brow.  “Witch?  No, he does not practice witchcraft.  He’s an angel,” the man deadpanned.

Dean blinked.  Then blinked again.  “Come again?”

“My brother, he is an angel of the Lord.”

“And that makes you…”

“An angel as well.”  The supposed angel seemed oblivious to Dean’s disbelief as he continued, “My name is Castiel.  I was honestly beginning to think I would be stuck as a frog forever.  Though, I would hope that Gabriel wouldn’t leave me that way.”

“Gabriel, as in, the archangel Gabriel?” Dean ventured carefully.

“Yes,” Castiel affirmed, looking at Dean as though the man was insane for not knowing who Gabriel was. 

Dean could barely think straight.  “So your brother, the archangel Gabriel, played a prank on you by turning you into a frog.  Why me?”

The guy’s face heated in obvious embarrassment.  “Well, you see,” he started then his voice trailed off and Dean didn’t catch what he said.

“What was that?” Dean asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Those blue eyes focused on him, suddenly determined.  In a rush, he explained, “Gabriel cursed me so I would be stuck until I was kissed by my soul mate.”

Dean blinked, letting the words soak in.  His fist tightened when he realized what the guy was getting at.  “Okay, first things first.  I don’t swing that way,” he started and Castiel frowned at the phrase.  Before he could ask about it, Dean continued, “Second, your angel story is a load of bull.  Angels aren’t real.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, taking in the hunter critically before stepping forward and grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt.  Dean swallowed, throat suddenly tight.  “Angels are real, Dean Winchester.”

The lights flickered then and shadows raced across the wall, catching Dean’s eye.  They looked like…

“Wings?”

“I am an angel of the Lord,” Castiel repeated, not stepping away.  “And you are my soul mate.”

Dean nodded almost numbly.  He’d worked a case once, where he thought it was the work of an angel.  But it had turned out to be a ghost, nothing more.  This, though.  He’d never seen anything like this.  Like Castiel.

He cleared his throat and pulled out of the angel’s grasp.  “Yeah, okay.  But I told you, I don’t swing that way.”

Castiel tilted his head, brows furrowed.  “I do not understand.”

“I don’t do guys, just chicks.  Women,” Dean explained.

The angel nodded in understanding.  “We were destined to be together, Dean.  God has commanded it.”

“I thought being gay was a sin,” Dean argued.

“Lust is the sin.”

“But,” he tried to find another reason, some way to get out of this.  There was no way he could be an angel’s soul mate!  “I’m dying,” he said after a moment, thinking of the deal.

The news didn’t surprise Castiel.  Instead, he pulled Dean closer, so close that Dean could feel his breath on his lips.  “Let me heal you.”

Dean’s eyes snapped opened, hadn’t realized they closed, and he stepped back.  Sending an accusing glare to the angel, he demanded, “What do you mean?”

Castiel looked guilty.  “I know about your contract to save your brother,” he admitted.  “I can break it without consequence to Sam.”

The hunter gaped, jaw hanging open and green eyes wide.  “You serious?”  At the nod he received, a smile crossed his lips.  “You’re awesome, you know that?  What do we do?”  But that guilty look was still on the angel’s face and Dean’s smile faded.  “What?”

“We have to bond,” Castiel informed shyly.  “Once our souls are bound, you and your family will be under my protection.”

“And by bond, you mean…?”

Face red, Castiel answered, “Copulation.”

Dean hummed thoughtfully.  The way he saw it, he had two options.  The first, try and find another way out of his deal, with no guarantee and likely end up going to hell.  Or he could sleep with this guy and be done with the damned deal forever.

Castiel wasn’t a bad looking guy.  He was actually pretty attractive, in that nerdy librarian sort of way.  Dark hair tousled like he just woke up or had a wild night of sex, deep blue eyes that were almost too intense.  And don’t forget the gravelly voice that sent the good kind of chills down Dean’s spine.

So really, he only had one option.

“Alright, let’s do this,” he said as he pulled the guy in for a kiss. 

When Sam returned to the hotel a few hours later, Dean introduced Castiel with a wide smile, telling his brother how the angel broke his contract for good.  Sam was wide eyed and entranced by Castiel, an honest-to-God angel.  Between the million questions a minute that he asked him, he managed to ask Dean about the bullfrog.

“Gone for good, I hope,” Dean shrugged. 

Because he was _not_ telling Sam the truth; that he may as well been a princess that kissed a frog, who turned out to be a prince.  Or in this case, an angel.  And he was definitely not telling him that Castiel was his boyfriend or husband or whatever just yet.  That could wait.

“So how did you guys meet?” Sam asked curiously. 

Before Dean could make up some story, Castiel answered in that serious way of his, “My brother cursed me as a bullfrog.”

He didn’t have to say anything else; Sam had already figured it out.  He looked from Dean to Castiel then burst out laughing, tears forming in his eyes and clutching at his stomach.

Dean scowled.  So much for that thought.


End file.
